Mel found the main library in the Sphere Tower. It took up the entire base of the structure. Books and scrolls filled the shelves there. Stained-glass windows glowed with sunlight high on the walls, patterned in circles, hexagons, and diamonds. Colored light slanted over the mellow wood tables. An elderly soldier was cleaning the globe on a stand across the room, a larger sphere than the one in Cobalt’s library. Mel felt odd when she concentrated on it. Light-headed. Strained. No spells stirred. It made her uneasy. What if her spells never came back? She couldn’t let herself believe that might happen. After having achieved so much, she couldn’t bear to have it all vanish. It would be worse than losing her sight.
The soldier scowled as she entered the library. Then he went back to work, pointedly ignoring her. He seemed to be the only librarian. She hesitated, then took a deep breath and walked over. She stopped before him, uncertain how to proceed. He rubbed his cloth on the bronze stand that held the globe, his concentration on his work, but she felt certain he knew she was there.
Mel spoke awkwardly. “Greetings of the morning, Good sir.”
He kept polishing the same section of metal.
She tried again. “You have a beautiful library. I don’t want to disrupt your procedures. Please let me know if I can do anything for you, or if you have any preferences for how I treat the materials here.”
His polishing slowed, but he didn’t look at her. After another moment, Mel bit her lip. But just as she was about to turn, he looked up at her and spoke gruffly. “If it be pleasing you, Your Highness, I’d ask you be gentle with the books. That is all.”
Mel smiled at him, her relief warming her expression. “I will indeed, kind sir.”
At her smile, his cheeks turned red. He even seemed on the verge of smiling himself. Mel wasn’t certain why people reacted that way when she smiled, but she was glad to see his unfriendly demeanor soften.
After taking her leave of the librarian, she browsed the library—and found a treasure. An entire set of shelves was devoted to geometry. She eagerly gathered up an armful of books and scrolls and carried them to a table. Soon she was engrossed in proofs about the diagonals in polygons.
“You are doing mathematics,” a woman said.
Mel looked up with a start. Dancer was standing only a few paces away. She held two large scrolls, one with a title penned on the outside: Historical Perspectives on Agriculture in the Western Cliffs.
“Oh, yes,” Mel said. She motioned at her books. “These are wonderful. I’ve never seen most of them.”
Dancer seemed perplexed. “You like to read?”
“Very much.”
“Ah.” The queen lost some of her cool reserve. “That is good. Always good.” She inclined her head. “I will leave you to your studies.” Then she went away with her scrolls.
Mel watched her leave, bemused. She hadn’t expected Dancer to value education, though now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure why not. Perhaps she and Dancer had a great deal to unlearn about each other.
Varqelle stood with Cobalt on a balcony of the South Tower. They gazed out to the east, toward Harsdown. Without his glasses, Cobalt couldn’t see the borderlands well, but the night was too dark to make out much even with them. He could distinguish the constellations if he squinted. That gave him a headache, though. It was why he liked his telescope; it turned the night sky into a sparkling wonderland he had no trouble seeing. He couldn’t view many stars at once with such a powerful lens, but he liked it anyway.
His father was discussing matters with far less appeal than star patterns. “The messenger from the Diamond Palace arrived this morning,” Varqelle continued. “Stonebreaker will be here tomorrow.”
Cobalt suppressed his hatred. He had to hold it in check, because they needed Stonebreaker. Only the Chamberlight king could provide them with an army. When his grandfather had tried to make him responsible for invading Harsdown, Cobalt had challenged him. And won. Cobalt wouldn’t have hesitated to ride against Harsdown if he had thought they could succeed. Both his father and Stonebreaker wanted the Jaguar Throne at any cost, but Cobalt had no desire to destroy his goal in the process of achieving it. He preferred his solution. Although neither he nor his father would ever sit on the Jaguar Throne, he had brought it back to their House without bringing ruin to their country or people. And now they had other options, for neither Harsdown nor Aronsdale could move against the Misted Cliffs. Tomorrow he would face Grandfather again, and this time he would give Stonebreaker what he wanted: conquest. But it would be on Cobalt’s terms.
“You are quiet,” Varqelle said. “Do you not wish to see your grandfather?”
Cobalt gritted his teeth, then realized what he was doing and stopped. “I never wish to see him.”
“You do not like him,” Varqelle said.
“No.”
“Why?”
Silence.
“He kept me apart from you and your mother,” Varqelle said. “I have no great love for him, either.”
“He is—” Cobalt could think of no tactful way to voice his true opinions of the king, so he said only, “Harsh.”
“A man needs to take a firm hand even with his family,” Varqelle said. “Strength gives rise to strength.”
The thought made Cobalt ill. He would sooner throw himself off a cliff than harm his child. He wanted his son or daughter to have the security neither he nor Dancer had known. He wished for his family what Mel had with hers.
“Is that what you would have me do with my son?” Cobalt asked coldly. “Beat the ‘strength’ into him?”
“Of course not. I do not approve of beating children.” Varqelle paused. “But neither would I have you spare the switch. A child who never knows discipline becomes weak in character.”
Cobalt’s fist clenched on the balcony rail. “And you would take this ‘firm’ hand with your wife?”
Varqelle scrutinized him. “This Dawnfield woman preys on your mind.”
“She does not prey.” If anything, he was the predator. Yet she had bewitched him with her spells. He thought of her constantly. Nothing would free his mind from her.
“You must control her,” Varqelle said.
Anger sparked in Cobalt. “Is that what you did with Mother?”
“Apparently not enough.”
This was a side of his father he didn’t want to see. “Or too much.”
Varqelle frowned. “It is not your affair.”
“I would have you tell me.”
“Why?”
“It would explain her fear of you.”
His father answered with scorn. “She fears strength.”
Cobalt crossed his arms, so tight with submerged rage that his words grated. “Perhaps she fears being punched in the stomach, the back, the arms, and the legs until she can’t bloody damn walk.”
Varqelle stared at him. “What lies has she told you about me?”
“Nothing.” Cobalt wished he could blur his memories as easily as his vision blurred. “That was what I watched Stonebreaker do to her.”
“I cannot believe such.”
Cobalt gripped the railing. “That you can’t believe it doesn’t change its truth.” He had no stone wall to hit and he didn’t want to lose control in front of Varqelle, but his father was treading on dangerous ground.
“I would never countenance such behavior,” Varqelle said. “That is the truth.” He suddenly went still. “Saints, Cobalt, did he hit you?”
“No longer. I am stronger than him.” Cobalt was clenching the railing so hard, his knuckles hurt. “Now.”
His father swore. “It was unforgivable for Dancer to bring you here. That my son should have endured such is a crime she can never undo.”
Cobalt gave him an incredulous look. “What about her? She endured the same.”
“She deserted her husband. That has consequences.”
“She deserves to be loved.”
Bitterness edged Varqelle’s voice. “She is incapable of it.”
“She loves me.”
“Then why did she bring you here?”
Why, indeed? That question had tormented Cobalt his entire life. He knew he should let it go. This bond he and his father were forming could all too easily break. Their connection was unlike anything he had known and he would do almost anything to protect it. But Varqelle and Dancer had molded his life. He had to understand. His need drove him when prudence cautioned he remain silent.
“Why does Mother fear you?” Cobalt said.
“She poisons your mind against me.”
“She says nothing of you.”
Some tension eased from Varqelle’s stance. “As is right.”
“Maybe you didn’t beat her like Stonebreaker, but you hurt her.” Cobalt couldn’t stop. “And you did other things. At night.”
Varqelle’s voice turned chill. “I will not discuss this with my son.”
Why? You are what I have to emulate. Cobalt had thirsted his entire life for his grandfather’s approval, but he had never wanted to become like Stonebreaker. With Varqelle, he lost his moorings. He and his father were so alike. He saw much to admire in Varqelle but also much that angered him. No easy answers were here.
Moonlight silvered the planes of Varqelle’s face. “Know this, Cobalt. Power burns within you. If Stonebreaker was cruel, if he tried to break your spirit, he succeeded only in forging you into a greater man. History will record your campaigns, my son. You will be remembered as the greatest general ever known.”
Cobalt stared at him. With Varqelle he could go from anger to stunned disbelief in a matter of moments. No one had ever spoken of him with such pride. That Varqelle would do so swept away Cobalt’s simmering rage and filled him with a longing he could barely define. He knew only that he never wanted to lose his father’s esteem.
“I will be remembered as your son,” Cobalt said.
Varqelle inclined his head, accepting the offered respect. But then his gaze darkened. “Do not let a woman ruin what you can become. Allow her to weaken your will and she will destroy you.”
Destroy? No. Perhaps Varqelle would call his driving need for Mel a weakness, but she made Cobalt feel invincible. Nothing could stop him. Knowing his father saw so much within him changed everything. They would join forces, he and Varqelle. It might be an alliance made in hell, but it would have no equal.
The king of the Misted Cliffs arrived late in the day, as shadows stretched across the land. He brought several hundred soldiers and they poured into the courtyard. Grooms, stable boys, and the castle staff ran to accommodate them.
Mel stood on a balcony in the Storm Tower and watched the commotion. Cobalt already had over fifty men here. With the cavalry Stonebreaker was bringing, their numbers swelled to more than four hundred. Everywhere she looked, warriors dismounted, called, strode, and gathered. They would lodge in towers, in tents set up in the courtyard, and in the open areas outside the wall. Stonebreaker actually had thousands of men, and rumors floating about the castle said the rest of them were assembling at the base of the cliffs, down in the borderlands. The Chamberlight king hadn’t brought a retinue. He had come with his damn army.
He expects to fight. The thought haunted Mel. No one would mount an operation this large just to meet his grandson’s bride. Stonebreaker might say he intended to show honor, but Mel didn’t believe it. This was either an unsubtle threat or the prelude to an invasion. Or both.
Leather creaked behind Mel. She turned to see Varqelle silhouetted in the archway. She bowed to him. “Good evening, Your Majesty.”
A chuckle came from the silhouette. “I’m hardly majestic, even at the top of a tower.”
“Matthew?” Mel winced. “My apologies. I thought you were Varqelle.” Now that she looked more closely, the difference was obvious. Matthew had a similar height, but kinder features and a huskier build. His hair was completely gray.
He came onto the balcony. “I’m sorry to disturb you. But I must prepare for King Stonebreaker’s arrival.”
“I will go. I should be downstairs anyway.” She would have preferred to stay away, but she couldn’t hide from Stonebreaker forever. Sooner or later she had to face him.
The Storm Tower contained many rooms, including the suite at the top where Stonebreaker stayed. Clerks worked in the mid level on the day-to-day business of the castle. Other floors had halls where Cobalt or Stonebreaker could meet with the staff that ran the castle. The chef and his staff had a huge kitchen below the ground level.
Mel descended to the bottom floor and stood in the shadows of an archway that opened onto the courtyard. In the hubbub outside, no one acknowledged her. The few people who glanced her way quickly averted their gazes. Their behavior didn’t surprise her. She didn’t even know the names of the soldiers quartered here. They kept apart, never speaking to her, especially as rumors of her magecraft spread. People made discreet snapping gestures with their hands when she walked by, signs to protect themselves against whatever evils they imagined within her. At home, her family and friends would have rejoiced to see her power growing, but here people avoided her as if she carried a plague.
She spotted Varqelle outside talking to several officers. Neither Cobalt nor Stonebreaker was anywhere in view. She had never met the Chamberlight king, but she had seen portraits here of him. Cobalt might have already escorted him to a place of welcome. Given his antipathy toward his grandfather, though, she questioned if Cobalt would even come down to the courtyard. His sense of duty was strong, however, and she thought his enmity for the king masked his desire for Stonebreaker’s good opinion.
“He has many men,” a woman said.
Mel almost jumped. Looking across the archway, she saw Dancer standing in the shadows. Mel had expected her mother-in-law to denounce her as a witch after what happened in the tower, but Dancer had remained silent these past few days, watching, judging, appraising. Although Mel wasn’t certain what to make of it, she could see that Dancer genuinely loved Cobalt. The mother was evaluating her son’s wife.
Mel spoke carefully. “I’ve heard over five thousand more of his men are gathering down in the borderlands.”
“These are for show,” Dancer said. “An exhibition of Chamberlight strength. For you.” Dryly she added, “My father has never been a subtle man.”
A dark figure formed in the shadows behind the queen—and resolved into Cobalt. He came up beside his mother. “It is time to greet him.” His words had a hollow sound.
“Where is he?” Mel asked.
“With the last wave of men,” Cobalt said. “The sentries spotted him.”
Mel couldn’t read him now. He was like a shuttered window. He and Dancer stood side by side as if they gained strength from each other against a threat.
“Why would he come last?” Mel asked.
Dancer folded her arms as if she were cold. “For a better entrance.”
Cobalt laid his palm on his mother’s arm, an unmistakable offer of protection. “Come. We will meet him at the gate.”
“Very well.” She caught her lower lip with her teeth.
Cobalt turned his stark gaze on Mel. “You can wait here. If you wish.”
Mel felt as if cool fingers walked across her shoulders. Of course she should greet the king. But watching them, she wanted to retreat to Cobalt’s suite until Stonebreaker left. No matter how she felt, though, it would be wrong to hide.
“I will go with you,” she said.
Dancer gave her an odd look. If Mel hadn’t known better, she would have thought it was approval. Cobalt inclined his head to Mel, and she caught the flicker of fear in his gaze. Never before had she seen that emotion from him, and she had questioned whether he was capable of it. Even now, he masked it well. But she had come to read him better these past few days. He feared his grandfather.
Dancer arranged the silk folds of her tunic as if they were armor. Then she stepped out into the slanting rays of the late afternoon. One of the arrivals, a warrior in Chamberlight armor and chain mail, glanced at her. He did a double take, then knelt before her and bowed his head.
“Please rise,” she said. Behind her, Cobalt was stepping out of the tower.
As the man stood, Cobalt joined his mother. The soldier blanched and went down on one knee again, with a sharper drop of his head. Nor was he the only one. Several others had seen them as well. All of Stonebreaker’s men who could see Dancer and Cobalt knelt. Their expression of fealty spread like a wave across the narrow strip of courtyard that curved around the base of the Storm Tower. Everywhere, they knelt in honor of the Chamberlight heirs.
Cobalt spoke, a short phrase Mel didn’t catch, and the men closest to him rose to their feet. The rest followed suit, and the wave spread in reverse now as the men stood. Cobalt turned and extended his hand to Mel. Taking a deep breath, she went to stand with him and Dancer. The soldiers watched with no welcome in their gazes. A bead of sweat ran down her temple. Had she not been with Dancer and Cobalt, she wasn’t certain she would have made it through this crowd without incident.
They walked across the odd, curving courtyard toward the main gate. Men on horses continued to ride through it, and others walked inside, leading chargers or pack animals loaded with feed. The men followed a custom she had never seen back home, bowing to Dancer and Cobalt from horseback. Dancer inclined her head, but Cobalt showed no trace of a response. His face was like carved stone.
A formation of six horses around a seventh appeared. Mel’s breath caught. The Chamberlight king sat astride the central mount, his head raised high. Stonebreaker. Cobalt resembled him even more than he did Varqelle. They both had the same broad-shouldered, long-legged build, the same pride in their carriage, the same powerful physique. But Cobalt was more. He had even more height, greater musculature, stronger features. He and Stonebreaker were two powerhouses, but the heir surpassed the sovereign.
Next to Cobalt, Stonebreaker would always seem second, even though in authority and status he was first. Mel recalled Brant Firestoke’s comment, that Stonebreaker was jealous of his grandson. Although she could see why, she would have expected the king to be proud rather than resentful. What better indication of his ascendancy than to see it reflected in such an exceptional heir? The more she learned about the Chamberlight dynasty, the more uncomfortable they made her.
Stonebreaker and his personal honor guard entered the courtyard at a regal pace. The king wore the leather and metal armor and chain mail, with a massive sword at his hip. The wind blew back his silvered hair, and he held a helmet under one arm.
Mel spoke in a low voice. “He is impressive.”
Neither Cobalt nor Dancer answered.
Mel wasn’t certain of protocols. Although her parents tended to avoid ceremony, the royal court in Aronsdale was formal. She knew the expected behavior there, but she was less certain here. She had read what she could find about the Misted Cliffs and the Chamberlight dynasty after she accepted Cobalt’s proposal. Most of it applied specifically to the court at the Diamond Palace; she recalled nothing about greeting the king in a lovely but strange citadel on top of a cliff. It was probably best to follow Cobalt and Dancer, or deal as she would in the Diamond Palace. If she felt uncertain, she could fall back on the customs at Castle Suncroft. Different countries had different ways, but Aronsdale, Harsdown, and the Misted Cliffs weren’t that dissimilar.
The king reined in his horse and surveyed the yard. When he settled his gaze on Dancer and Cobalt, they each bowed to him. Mel followed suit, copying their motions. Stonebreaker inclined his head much in the way they had done with the riders who bowed to them. High up on his stallion, with his armor and helmet glittering, he seemed the epitome of majestic splendor.
As the king dismounted, Cobalt walked over to him. Mel hung back with Dancer. The two men greeted each other and stood together, surrounded by the bustle and flow of soldiers, guards, and servants like columns of rock in a turbulent river. Dressed in black, Cobalt seemed shadowed compared to Stonebreaker. Mel wondered if he deliberately played down his own qualities in his grandfather’s presence. If Stonebreaker did envy him, such an approach would be a way to appease the king’s displeasure.
Stonebreaker and Cobalt seemed respectful of each other. It took her a moment to pinpoint what was missing; neither man showed any sign he was glad to see the other. In her family, they would have been hugging, talking, laughing. She had seen the reserve in how Cobalt and his mother interacted, but this coldness went beyond that.
Mel touched the pendant around her neck. She concentrated on a spell. Her power did respond today, but it stirred only weakly. She couldn’t control the green light that formed around her hand. Dancer glanced at her sharply, and Mel lowered her arm, letting the spell go. She didn’t want the Chamberlight king to think she was trying to curse him or some such nonsense. Nor was she certain she wanted to know more; her brief spell had been enough to reveal the darkness Cobalt felt toward his grandfather.
Stonebreaker and Cobalt came toward them, but the men in the Chamberlight honor guard stayed back. The king looked Mel over without a smile, then turned away as if she were of no consequence. He stopped in front of Dancer and nodded. “You look well today, my dear.”
Dancer returned his nod with formal, icy perfection. “Thank you, Father.”
Cobalt drew Mel forward. “Grandfather, may I present my wife, Melody Dawnfield Escar.”
Mel bowed to the king with one hand holding the silk layers of her tunic, the greeting of an heir to a sovereign of higher rank among her people, and among Cobalt’s as well, from what she had read. When she straightened, Stonebreaker was looking the other way, at the men setting up tents in the courtyard. He spoke to Cobalt. “We won’t be able to lodge everyone here.”
A muscle twitched in Cobalt’s cheek, and for a moment Mel thought he would speak in anger. She tried to catch his eye, to tell him the slight didn’t matter, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“You have brought many men,” Cobalt said. The rebuke too many remained implicit.
“If you are unable to deal with them,” Stonebreaker said, “I can take care of the matter.”
Cobalt stiffened. “I regret that your advisers were unable to plan ahead of time.”
Mel stared at him. He had practically suggested the king’s advisers were incompetent.
“Ah, well,” Stonebreaker said, as if making allowances for his grandson’s ineptitude. “I am sure you did your best.”
Cobalt’s fist clenched at his side.
Dancer spoke quickly. “We have a feast planned tonight, Father, to honor you.”
“I imagine so.” The king finally turned to Mel. “Perhaps you will fetch everyone drink to slake our thirst. We have traveled a long way.”
Mel had no idea how to respond, especially after his bizarre exchange with Cobalt. She wasn’t a servant. Even if that had been the case, what did he expect, that she would provide wine for the hundreds of men arriving here?
Cobalt spoke. “We have refreshment inside.” He sounded as if he were gritting his teeth.
“That will have to do.” Stonebreaker offered his arm to Dancer. “Come, Daughter. I should like to catch up on news.”
Dancer answered stiffly. “Of course.” She set her palm on his arm and they started for the Storm Tower.
Mel looked up at Cobalt, at a loss for how to respond to all this. His gaze had darkened. He presented his arm and she set her palm on it the way Dancer had done with Stonebreaker. They followed the king and his daughter, and Mel was aware of Stonebreaker’s guards coming behind them. She vowed she would learn their names, rank, even their favorite food, anything to make them people rather than more unnamed soldiers.
Inside the Storm Tower, a large hall took up the entire bottom floor. Youths from the kitchen staff were setting platters of food on a large table in the center. Ice sculptures graced the table, one carved to resemble the Diamond Palace and the other like the Castle of Clouds. Servers were escorting guests into the hall, highly ranked officers from among the men Stonebreaker had brought and in the company already quartered here.
Varqelle entered through another archway, accompanied by Cobalt’s honor guard. They escorted him through the bustle of soldiers and servers, and everyone they passed stepped aside, bowing to the Escar king.
When they reached Stonebreaker, Varqelle inclined his head to the Chamberlight king, one sovereign to another. “You honor us with your visit, Your Majesty.” The rigid set of his shoulders belied the courtesy of his greeting.
Stonebreaker returned the nod. “You look well. I hope my home agrees with you.”
The Escar king answered with stiff formality. “It does you honor.” The courteous words didn’t hide his discomfort with the man who had kept him from his wife for thirty-three years.
Varqelle glanced at Cobalt and his face relaxed into a smile. “My greetings, son.”
Cobalt bowed deeply, showing a son’s respect for his father. He could have bowed that way to his grandfather, too, had he so chosen. Varqelle clapped him on the shoulder, and incredibly, Cobalt smiled. Mel realized it was the first time anyone had greeted her husband with good wishes today. Stonebreaker’s men had knelt to him, yes, but out of duty, not because they were happy to see him. It was no wonder Cobalt had taken to his father; Varqelle might be evil in her eyes, but he was the only one here aside from Dancer who treated Cobalt like a human being.
When Varqelle turned to Mel, his expression hardened. She met his gaze, knowing hers held just as much distrust. He would use Cobalt to gain his ends, and Cobalt would do whatever his father wanted, because Varqelle gave him the acceptance that the rest of the world had denied him his entire life. Stonebreaker was a fool if he had let envy poison his relationship with his grandson. He might covet Cobalt’s power, but in trying to destroy his grandson’s spirit, he would only turn that power against himself and his reign.
The royal party went to a dais at one end of the hall where a smaller table stood, long and narrow. Stonebreaker led the way, flanked by two men in his honor guard. Varqelle and Dancer came next, followed by Mel and Cobalt. It was the first time Mel had seen Cobalt’s parents walking side by side. Neither looked at the other. Varqelle didn’t offer his arm for Dancer’s hand and Dancer made no attempt to take his elbow.
High-backed chairs stood along one side of the table, each a work of art, made from darkwood and set with blue and white silk cushions. The central chair was a white marble throne inlaid with sapphires and diamonds. The table was also darkwood. A circular mosaic inlaid its center, displaying the insignia of the House of Chamberlight, a blue sphere on a white background.
Stonebreaker went to stand in front of the throne. He nodded to his family, and they took their places in front of the chairs that flanked him, Dancer and Varqelle to his left, Mel and Cobalt on the right. The six officers in Stonebreaker’s honor guard went to chairs at the ends of the table, three to the left and three to the right.
They all faced the hall. Below them, about fifty guests stood at the larger table. Stonebreaker lifted his chin and surveyed his men. Then he raised his hand. Immediately, kitchen servers filed up to the dais with platters for the high table and a frozen sculpture of the mythical ice-dragon said to live in the highest reaches of the Misted Cliffs. They set out crystal goblets shaped like orchids and flasks of red wine imported from the lowlands. Mel would have preferred apple juice, but they had none. Although a few of the trees grew up here, they were scraggly and bore little fruit. She had no desire to eat, knowing this feast honored the commander who had gathered one of the largest armies ever seen in the settled lands—and poised it on the border of her country, Harsdown.
The royal family remained standing while the table was set. After the servers withdrew, Stonebreaker settled into his throne. At Cobalt’s nudge on her elbow, Mel joined the Chamberlight family in taking their seats. Stonebreaker’s honor guards sat next. Only then did the rest of their guests settle into their chairs at the big table. Mel was relieved they all knew what they were doing, because she had no idea. Had she been expected to assign seating, she wouldn’t have known who to put where or when to do it. No one had told her about this meal despite her inquiring in the kitchens both yesterday and earlier today about preparations for the king’s arrival. The castle had a staff of over twenty, plus the stable hands and soldiers, yet she felt completely isolated.
Her introduction to Stonebreaker only made it worse, and she had little doubt it was intentional on his part. Cobalt’s protective attitude toward his mother and his strange verbal battle with his grandfather caused her to wonder how much he, too, was a victim of Stonebreaker’s control. Mel couldn’t imagine how she would survive up here. Saints, she missed her family.
No emotion showed on Cobalt’s face, but something flickered in his eyes when he looked at her, an apology maybe. Or perhaps she only wished to see it. She didn’t try a mood spell. Hers always created light and that would draw unwanted attention, possibly even endanger her life if Stonebreaker’s men feared she would harm the Chamberlight king.
Supper was excruciating. With eleven of them sitting along one side of the table it was difficult to talk to one another. Stonebreaker asked Dancer for news about the castle and listened with patience while she spoke. His officers said nothing. Had Mel been at home and her family invited her father’s officers to dinner, they all would have been talking and laughing around the table. Now she didn’t even know if she could talk to anyone. She had lost track of all the decrees Stonebreaker had for the behavior of his family.
The officer to Mel’s left was a tall man with hair the color of bronze and a colonel’s ebony ring on his finger. He dined with gusto, but he never broke protocol by eating with his hands or spilling food. The same couldn’t be said of the soldiers at the table below. Mel was glad she wasn’t the one who would clean up after the feast. Though perhaps she shouldn’t be so certain, given the way Stonebreaker had treated her this afternoon. Pah. She shouldn’t let him bother her this way.
Mel spoke cordially to the colonel. “Is the food to your liking, sir?”
The man froze. Then he slowly set down his knife and looked at her. “Yes, Your Highness. It is excellent.”
“I am glad you are enjoying it, Colonel…” She let his title hang as a question. She didn’t expect an answer; when she had tried this technique with Cobalt’s men, they only bowed and went about their work, refusing to talk to her.
This fellow, however, smiled amiably. “Leo Tumbler, ma’am.”
Leo Tumbler. Finally! She had a name for someone. She smiled and said, “My pleasure at your acquaintance, Leo Tumbler.” She heard Stonebreaker speak to Cobalt, the first time it had happened during the meal, but she didn’t catch the words.
Tumbler flushed when she smiled. Then he beamed at her. “The honor is mine, ma’am.”
A hand touched Mel’s arm. “Your roast grows cold,” Cobalt said.
Startled, she turned to him, and he shook his head slightly, warning her to silence. Her anger sparked. Beyond him, she saw Stonebreaker cutting his venison. Although the king didn’t seem to be paying attention, she had no doubt he was listening. She gritted her teeth. You want Cobalt and me to argue, don’t you. Stonebreaker knew how isolated she and Dancer were here; he had set it up that way. Of course she wanted to talk to someone. So Stonebreaker manipulated Cobalt into stopping her. It could leave her and her new husband ripe for a spat.
Mel gave Cobalt her sweetest smile, the one her friends at home had always said made her look angelic. “Why, thank you, love. It is kind of you to notice.”
Cobalt gaped at her. Suddenly his grin flashed—and lit up his entire face. It vanished immediately, but the sight was enough to warm Mel through ten dinners. Stonebreaker stabbed his fork into his meat, too hard, and the shaft bent.
Mel couldn’t imagine raising a child in this family. If Stonebreaker was always like this, he would make the child doubt her worth. Or his. Varqelle would teach a boy his unforgiving view of life and probably despise a girl. She had no idea how Dancer would respond. If only she could raise her child with her parents. The likelihood Cobalt would ever agree to such, though, was about as great as that of the Misted Cliffs toppling into the borderlands. The shame of it was, Cobalt could probably be a good father if he had the chance to find that side of himself. But in this place, she didn’t see how that would ever happen.
With the Chamberlight army gathering, they had room only for thoughts of war.